


It Needs To Be Pieced Together

by Oakley (Hisokafucker69)



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU!, I swear Pidge is gonna become a detective the lil shit, M/M, Party! AU!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisokafucker69/pseuds/Oakley
Summary: Keith dislikes parties - attending one and waking up in his own bed the next day with only a shred of recollection of the previous night, Keith only begins to despise parties even more, especially as the puzzle comes together of what he did that night, and why he wished it stayed forgotten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i hate life  
> i whipped this out my ass just for the reason that pidge becomes a detective of the lance and keiths relationship  
> its shit im sorry i did it for the meme

College parties were never Keith's thing – then again, neither was interaction or being on the lecturer's good side. An education, remaining the upholding best engineer in the class, and leaving again was his plan, but somehow he ended up in the most trivial situation.

Music pulsing through his veins, syncopating the heavy beat of his adrenalin cursing heart, he was at his own choice of a nightmare. Looking back he wasn’t even sure how he got here, but the aroma of alcohol made his head heavy and his brows fall heavier in exasperation. Maybe it was the sudden impulse of actually being asked to attend a party, and his personal teacher, Shiro's encouragement to actually socialise; maybe he just made a big mistake and was against the whole idea and was already reaching his hand out for the door-

‘Don't be a pussy, Keith.’ Keith's fingers laced over the door's handle then quickly his hand dropped to his side – a sigh oozed from his lips, now folded in some conjured self doubt. Quickly, his head darted around, looking for some familiar faces, but none were recognisable in the dim strobe lights that continuously lit the glossy-red drunken cheeks of the rapid teens.

It was hard to walk around, dodge the food on the floor and pretend you know what you’re doing. Swiftly, Keith's disgruntled face spotted the table, full of the usual half eaten snacks and stereotypical red cups and various spirits – it wasn’t like Keith was a virgin to the drinking life, he just wasn’t a social drinker, he may have got work done on his own with a can of beer cooling his mitt or occasionally a wine out on dates. He didn’t drink for the aim of no recollection of the night or to plummet into a state of stupidity. 

“Mind o-out, eu-!” A wretch followed by a stench of vomit cascaded onto one of Keith's shoes, making his frown drag down as if attached to an anvil. “Fucking gross.” Keith muttered, pushing the zombie like drunkards to the side to head for the table, get some food, and then maybe just leave and get some work done.

“Who the _fuck_ invited you?” _God it's that voice_. “I’m s-serious, Jesus, Alicia must have been desperate for guests, hoo- _boi_!” Despite the atypical stammer and subtle slur the annoyingly recognisable voice made Keith's upper lip raise, and his skin shudder like hearing chalk against a blackboard. 

“Lance. Shut the fuck up, if I knew you were coming I'd surely not be here now, dick.” Keith replied, his tongue bitter like ginger, smearing his words with an aggressive bite that made Lance look around for some insult-ammo to shoot back with. 

“Well... _uuuh_ , you suck! Ha! Lance : one and Keith : zero!” Lance's grin curled up, his lips like a monkey's. Lance was annoyingly tall, rather slim, bent over as he grabbed some liquid which Keith couldn’t really categorise, and neither could Lance by the look of his stumbling fingers ambling for a cup.

“Sure got me good, I'm in pain.” Keith placed a hand on his hip, his head tilting slightly as the sarcasm ate away at any idea Lance had of a ‘comeback'.

“You can't say anything, you...you have a shitty-ass mullet and were nearly kicked off your course, and not even for cool reasons, ha, sucker, least if you l-leave I'll lose my arch enemy, and I'll be the best at engineering, haha! Fuck you, Keith.” His words were beginning to drabble, but still stung Keith somewhat despite not affecting his resting bitch face.

“What ‘arch enemy', I forget you’re in my class all the time, you're just pathetic.” That was wrong, no one could forget Lance, his loud annoying voice at the perfect pitch to make you cringe, his stupid antics, his mocha glowed skin that always was highlighted in the brash lecture hall lights; he had an aura about him, a warmth that made Keith incredibly cautious (maybe his lack of brain cells would rub off on him). 

“What's that supposed to mean?! It's K-Keith and Lance, fighting neck and neck!” Lance protested, urging his filled cup over at Keith's direction before returning it to his lips and taking a plentiful swig.

Keith wasn’t sure if it was the inhaling of alcohol, or the fumes, or the adrenalin of the continuous music, but Lance seemed different, at least vision wise. His hair seemed soft and urging, actually brushed, and the clothes he was wearing weren’t just the same clothes from the day before...and the day before that, and the day before that...

Heat pressed against Keith's skin, and it was as if the usual blood boiling in infuriation was heating because of something else, Lance's innocence in the light of alcohol maybe?

“Wrong. It's Lance being a complete idiot and fucking up every assignment.” Keith finally said, breaking the slight pause of his eyes wandering around and blistering from strange thoughts pricking through him.

Lance's hand reached over, grabbing Keith's wrist, letting go of his now empty cup and letting it fall to the floor – the first thing Keith even thought of was how large his hands were, and how they were so cold, like a slap of a reassurance some how, yet it just made him feel hotter and hotter and boil up like a kettle until Keith was pretty sure he had gas was swirling from his ears. “Maybe if you help me I wouldn’t get that, huh? Mmaybe you should help me! Maybe.” After a few gulps, Lance raised his head as if to show his height advantage but in this state it only demeaned him, showing his lack of strength left.

Red soared to Keith's cheeks, burning up, and somehow butterflies began swirling through his stomach, playing his ribcage like a xylophone and cramping any morals that continuously echoed some sense subconsciously through him. Dazed, his head flickered away. “Lance, piss off, I couldn’t teach you if I tried!”

“How about we trade know...knowled... knowledge, right? That seems fair! Riight?”

Keith’s eye contact dragged itself reluctantly  back to Lance's distractingly icy blue eyes, freezing up Keith's tongue, somehow making him stutter – Keith had drank before he came, of course he did, it was a routine, but he didn’t have enough to feel this dumbfounded that his body had become weak under the slight pressure of even Lance suggesting such stupid things. “What are you even implying?”

“I'll teach you, how to _looooove_...” The ‘o’ cooed against his throat, his voice at least lowering by an octave – he was so drunk and Keith was so flustered.

Flicking his wrist to throw Lance's hand away, Keith's lips raised in disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“You’re always the one staring at class with your dark d-distracting eyes.”

Keith took a step back – not only embarrassed, but confused? Lance. The class clown, reduced to a stupid ‘seductive’ (miserably failing) state just because of alcohol. What a loser.

Keith would never change his opinions of parties, but it sure changed his idea of Lance.

“So? You feel like it?” Lance grabbed Keith's hand, a dumb smile equipped as his alcoholic trance made his posture stilted.

“No. What is wrong with you?” 

Lance was too tall, and Keith blushed too easily. By this period Keith's face was the colour of the suspicious mix of spirits stirred in the punch bowl. His hands clamped against his waist, almost clinging, the lust in his glazed icy eyes like a shit of the strongest Russian vodka to Keith's system.

Lance was too close, and Keith was not far enough. The proximity just made him shake in awkwardness, his legs itching with some anticipation as he went to hit Lance's hand away again only to have his fingers laced between his in one fair swoop. 

“I’ll literally kick you in your fucking dick.”

“Alcohol is a...a what’s it? Uh, a pain easier a thingy, y'know...”

“An anaesthetic.”

“Thaaat's what I meant, so your dick kickin' won't effect me, HA.” Lance mumbled, his body somehow swaying to the basic undertones of the music. His hands cold as his fingers lowered a bit deeper to hold a little tighter and give a small squeeze. The thoughts in Keith's mind were repulsive right now, as the regret of not getting completely smashed overlooked him, how he could have either gone with impulse and kicked him, or alternatively...

Lance's head swooped down, his chest enclosed against Keith's now, their hearts playing cross rhythms as Lance blew his alcoholic breath against Keith's lips, making them tingle.

“You're gross.” 

“You’re still not pushing me away.”

“I tried.”

“You're stronger than me and you know it.”

Keith wasn’t going to not accept Lance's low key compliment despite it's sarcastic form. His eyes danced over to the drinks table, and an impulse shrouded over ant thought of sense. 

“I’m going to get a drink.”

 

-~-

 

Keith's eyes were hanged shut before slowly, begrudgingly opening, a migraine eating away at any thought of memory calling back to him. “ _What the fuck?_ ” His eyes looked around, at the bed he was in, and the heavy smell of spirits making his nostrils ache and his liver get PTSD – his mouth was dryer than a dessert and his legs lead as he tried to sit up and comb his fingers through his hair. 

He was somehow in his room, fucked up, with no mess? No one else there, just him, alone, isolated with his own thoughts and throbbing headache. Carefully, he thought back, trying to think or recall his steps, because he definitely didn’t remember sleeping, he went to that party, but after that it was all a patch of unorganized mess that was so jumbled that Keith began to feel sick. 

“F-fucking hell,” Keith clutched his head, the pain throbbing in his palm as he met out another groan. “What the fuck happened last night?”

 

-~-

“And you don’t remember any of it? I see...” Small fingers reached up at her own glasses fiddling to push them further and give a small chortle.

“It's not funny, Pidge, my head hurts, everything hurts, and I can’t even remember what happened last night!” Keith slammed his face into his hand, hiding his brash embarrassment before replying with another muffled “I’m doomed!”.

“Nothing bad _probably_ happend.” Pidge leaned against her hand, her straw of her usual chocolate milkshake lodged against her bottom lip, giving a small breath in, flavouring her mouth with bitter sweetness followed by a satisfied sigh. “Oh...unless...” For a moment her hands drew up, covering her mouth and catching some escaped laughs. 

“What? _What_...” Keith said behind muffled hands before dragging his face out of his embarassed hiding.

“You had a one night stand...”

 

_“This'll only be a one time th-thing, yeah? Y-you should just kiss me now, I want you, badly.” A cold hand glazed over his cheek._

_“I can’t do that... y-you'll be angry.” His voice soft even in the fading visions like a blanket of security and somehow loathing._

 

“Oh shit. Oh shit, I couldn’t have I? What the fuck, Pidge, why would you even say that? I might have done, I could have got some girl pregnant? Do you realise how irresponsible that is? Drinking is shit! Partying is shit!”

 

_“I d-didn't like parties until you swooped down, like a blessing-“ A hiccup interrupted the slurred incoherent word vomit and warmth laugh followed._

 

“It's coming back, it's all coming back, my head hurts, Pidge, what the fuck do I do? Some girl could be carrying my baby right now, a tiny foetus, my DNA, a Keith Junior—“

“I think you’re thinking too much into this—“

“—What if I'm not?” Keith's head fell back, his head continuously throbbing as a sigh trembled through his soft breaths.

“A mystery case of ‘what happened at the party', how interesting...” She gave a little chortle again despite Keith's extreme seriousness for the situation.

“This isn’t some game, I was irresponsible, what do I do?” Keith urged, his teeth clamped as he pulled back to grimace, holding back from either full out yelling, or full out falling and dying.

“Don't ask me! I don't go to events like that, drinking games while watching shows is funnier - for example, in this soap opera, take a shot every time Keith overreacts - I'd be on the floor needing pumping in a few minutes.”

“Not funny.”

“Honestly though, trace yourself back, I'm sure the story will jumble together, right? You woke up in your own bed, so trust me it could have been worse- honestly thinking, if it is as bad as it could be.... eugh, now it's grossing me out. If you find you did anything too NSFW, don’t share it with me.”

“So you’re implying I did have sex.”

“No,” Pidge's eyes narrowed, as if the stupidity she was witnessing actually pained her, (which it really did). “I said if you did have sex, I don’t want to know.” Letting a disgusted expression fall lightly on her lips she looked away, leaving Keith in his throbbing thought.

 

_“I can’t forget this time... w-with, fuck, I hate you, you suck.” His voice was still cold despite the heat wallowing over his body, bratticing every bone._

_“You're dumber.”_

_“Fuck you.”_

_“Fuck you!”_

_“Fuck me.”_

 

“This is so bad. I'm fucked.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first chap got quite a few views nice one lads k gonna carry on but just a few warnings from me as a consistent writer:  
> \- i live in the UK so nthe why i write things or spell may b different  
> \- cuz i live there my timezones r a bit shit but ill try and upload at a universal time  
> \- im tired a lot and have a terrible memory so if i haven't updated in awhile it will happen I've probs just forgot  
> \- im a terrible depressed procrastinator so my writing is over a few days cuz i forget and don't wanna carry on etc 
> 
> hope u enjoy this wild ride xo

**Fucking Dick (11:23 am)** : _hate 2 b asking u but ur literally the only person ik? do u have the essay shit for class i was to drunk last night to remember what it was lol_

Pidge looked over towards Keith’s pocket, which was vibrating with the sound of a stupid ringtone overlaying the shifting motions. “Are you not going to answer that?”

“It's Lance. Why would I?”

“How do you know it's him?” Pidge raised a brow, curiosity smitten over her rounded face.

“I deliberately set the most annoying default ringtone to his so if he tried to ‘prank call me' or text me, I'd know, and not reply.” Despite Keith's obvious ill-untempt to answer the text, he still reached into his pocket and brought out the phone, reading over the message – Pidge peered over his shoulder, the sheen of her glasses reflected by the harsh coffee shop light making her pupils glazing over the text invisible to a unknowing Keith.

 **Me (11:25 am)** : _**too_

“Lance went to that party too, huh?” Pidge questioned, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms before letting a sly grin taint her lips.

“Probably, I was that drunk that I can’t remember anyone who was there, I don’t even know if I was there at this point.”

 

_“Who the fuck invited you?” God it's that voice. “I’m s-serious, Jesus, Alicia must have been desperate for guests, hoo-boi!” Despite the atypical stammer and subtle slur the annoyingly recognisable voice made Keith's upper lip raise, and his skin shudder like hearing chalk against a blackboard._

_“Lance. Shut the fuck up, if I knew you were coming I'd surely not be here now, dick.” Keith replied, his tongue bitter like ginger, smearing his words with an aggressive bite._

 

“Never mind, he was definitely there, I can remember his annoying voice making me want to die.” 

Swiftly, Pidge's delicate fingers held the frame of her glasses, pushing them up slightly. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“I don’t hate him. I just strongly oppose of his voice, opinions, face and jokes.” Keith said smartly, to which Pidge replied with a deep heavy sigh making her hunch her back slightly.

 **Fucking Dick(11:27 am)** : _least i dong have a mullet bitch_

 **Me (11:28 am)** : _‘dong'_

 **Fucking Dick (11:28 am)** : _im not having a good day as it is cunt just give me the homework_

 **Me: (11:30 am) :**  I was at a party too actually, and I didn't have time to do it

“Antisocial much?” Pidge muttered hypocritically, her lip curving to the side of her mouth as she slipped lower in her chair – carefully she hovered her lips over her burning hot coffee and gave it a small blow, the steam followed and made a fall smoky swirl. “Why are you texting him so quickly?”

“So he can get off my back, obviously!” Keith said calmly, flicking his wrist before slipping his phone into his pocket. “Besides, he's stopped replying now.”

“Hmmm...” A hum ran through a small gap in Pidge's lips before she leaned over and took another sip of coffee, then flinched back and drove her head into her neck, forming a few chins – her tongue was burned, and so was Keith's cheeks.

“What’s the hum for? You’re being devious, Pidge, and I don’t like it.” 

Recovering with a false smirk, Pidge sat up, grabbing her coffee before sliding of the chair. “I’ll catch you later, work to do, computerths to programme, etc.” She tried to play off her suddenly burned-formed lisp but honestly she sounded terrible as she went out the coffee shop – Pidge made sure her body was as small as possible as she travelled through the people sat and stood around the dood, her head down, as soon as she left her friends she became a lot more quieter, anxious, so to speak. “Later, lother!”

“’Lother'.” Keith repeated to himself impersonating Pidge's stupid lisp with a lacklustre smirk hanging loosely from his lips.

 

-~-

 

Class was always the same, listen to the lecturer, write notes then begin some sort of project. Sadly, this time class wasn’t the same, and they had to be with a partner. Keith wasn’t exactly introverted, but the idea of having to be with someone who would just drag him down in his projects didn’t appeal to him either – no one in the class really liked him, so at least their partnership would be a mutual hatred. 

“Finally. Keith, you'll be paired with Lance, as you both failed to finish your course assessment you two will have to work twice as hard.”

Never have words pained Keith so much.

“What? Him?” Lance yelled from the back of the lecture theatre, his lips curled up in disgust as his arms flung over toward Keith. “I hate Keith.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” Keith muttered bitterly, his arms crossing in repulse.

“I don’t care. This project is a part of your course, if you don’t complete this it won’t be appropriate for you to continue on this module.”

 

-~-

 

Once the lecture was complete, Keith grabbed his bag and began to leave, but was stopped by a large hand holding onto his shoulder, it was cold however in a pleasurably soft way rather than a dead man's hand, however, this feeling soon made his shoulder stiff as soon as he heard that annoying voice. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? We have a project, are you just gonna run off and do it on your own because you’re a rebel?” Lance let his hand fall, and walked alongside Keith in the corridor despite Keith's bet attempt to cut ahead.

“You wouldn’t help.”

“I'm an engineer already and a want to be pilot, you can’t say shit.”

“You couldn’t fly a tin can.”

“Because tin cans don’t have wings, Keith.” Lance replied, a smirk itching its way across his face.

“It's a phrase, you idiot.”

“Fuck you.” 

Keith stopped in the corridor, looking over at Lance with a dazed expression, his eyebrows surprisingly loose as the corner of his eyes twitched; that same voice from his memories curdled at the similar tone and voice sprayed from Lance's tongue.

 

_“Fuck you.”_

_“Fuck you!”_

_“Fuck me.”_

 

“Were you at Alicia's party last night?” Keith asked, his eyebrows going back to their usual furrowed position, before turning and beginning to walk. Narrowing his eyes, Lance stopped too, his eyes tracing over the walking away Keith before taking a large step to catch up – his face looked down to Keith’s, despite not being able to get eye contact with him because of his stern set expression on the steps before him. 

“Probably, can’t really remember anything from last night and I'm really surprised I didn’t get alcohol poisoning, to be honest.” Lance said, looking back at what was in front of him. “Why, were you there? I didn’t know parties were your scene.”

“They're not.” Keith muttered, walking out onto the campus. “I don’t usually get so drunk that I have a recollected memory that's all.”

“Did Keith get some pussy?” Lance said jokingly, his lips curling into a sneer as he leant closer to Keith's pale face.

“Did Lance gain some brain cells- oh wait.”

“Hey!” Lance grunted, crumpling up his face. “Well, anyway,” Lance placed his hands behind his neck, walking with his head leaning to his hands. “least I know girls.”

“I know girls.”

“Hmmm? Like who?”

“Alicia? Charlotte? Pidge?”

“Wait, Pidge's a girl? Strange world.”

A sigh seeped its way through Keith's lips. “Look, Lance, you get drunk at things like that all the time? What do you do if you think you... I don’t know, got some girl pregnant?”

“A girl wouldn’t touch you with a ten feet pole-“

As soon as the words left his mouth Keith instinctively hit Lance in the stomach. “I’m serious!”

By instinct, he looked down at him with a large smirk equipped on his lips, but it soon died as Keith's face only expressed some sort of seriousness that made Lance's heart stop. “You serious?”

“I don’t know.” Keith muttered, turning around the campus to stop at a bench to sit down and dump his bag on the floor beside his feet. His hands slipped into his hair and Lance hovered above him. 

“Hey, girls know how to deal with this kind of stuff...” Lance gave a weak reassuring smile which juxtaposed Keith's furrowed brows and raised upper lip. “Well, I know Alicia well so I can help find who it was.”

Keith looked up, dropping his hand to his thighs. “You sure you didn’t just go to hit on girls?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t go to do that,” Lance grinned with arched brows. “but that's more reason for me to know all the girls there.”

“You're such a dick.” 

“Gladly.”

Carefully, Keith stood up and grabbed his bag, swinging it onto his back before angrily looking up at Lance's smirk. “How tall are you? Your height is ridiculous.”

“Y'know, 6”4, and still big enough down there-“ 

“-gross.” Keith spat like the thought hurt his head.

 

_“I hate how...how... tall you are...”_

_“You’re not that small I'm just like a giant....lmaoooo...”_

_“Did. Did you just say ‘lmao’ in real life.”_

_“Baby, I'm mmagicial...”_

_Keith stumbled over to the tall figure, his eyebrows furrowed and actions like that of a ragdoll. “Shut up.”_

 

“Shit.” Keith muttered, walking over toward his accommodation, memories spilling into his mind pile adding colour to a blank canvas.

“You okay there? Forget how you probably haven’t had a haircut with that shitty mullet?”  Lance jeered, giving a dumb smile at his own joke.

“Why are you still following me, I have work to do.” Keith retorted, his eyebrows twitching in frustration as Lance gave a little bit of a boisterous yawn.

“Well if you’re doing any work I need to be here, it's a team assignment, duh!” Mockingly, he pressed his index finger against his temple. “Anyway, I want to help you figure out the mystery girl.”

“Uh?” Keith was a little confused, he hadn't really had anyone in his apartment before, and Lance helping him with something made him feel really uneasy. “Really?”

“Sure. It's either that or I'll be at another party, and Tuesdays aren’t a good days for parties.”

“And Mondays are...?”

Lance shrugged and just walked on, his expressions lightened by the fall sun glazing his milky coffee skin. “Well, parties I meet people, have fun, have a fling and forget.”

“Forget what?”

“Hopefully a lot, lmao.”

“Please don’t say ‘lmao’ in real life, it makes me cringe, you’re like a cringe compilation.”

“But I'm the cringe compilation you enjoy watching...”

Keith's fingers bent, into his palm as heat melted into his body, fuming his cheeks to a similar colour of his hoodie. “Go away.”

 

_“In...in class you always look at me and stuff and why'd you do that?”_

_“It’s me, try'na make you go away...”_

_“You don't mean go away, you love me, in a weird way.”_

_“Sh-shut upp...”_

 

"Hey, mullet, you alright there?" Lance stopped his long strides, turning around to see a halted Keith, his eyes glazed over with something concerning.

"No. Not really."

**Author's Note:**

> wild.  
> if this gets anything ill continue it soon xo


End file.
